Drabbling into the Royal Family: Fire Nation
by Rickashay
Summary: This is a piece of writing for the Fire Nation's royal family. It includes sad, tragic, sweet, and dreadfully scary stories. One-shots and drabbles, between K-T, Third Chapter, "Beautiful Destruction" Zuko, "He had never seen something more beautiful..."
1. Limit

Disclaimer I don't own Avatar: The Last Airbender

Limit

They twist and bend, creating shapes and sizes. They twirl, laughing.

Exhausted, she falls into her seat, flushed, panting, and with beads of sweat rolling down from her forehead to the bridge of her nose. She gave a soft, hesitant smile. As quick as lightening her betrothed shot her an uninterested look, dabbed the salty drops away, and with a soft kiss to her cheek, the lights swirled in confusion. The laughter faded, the songs, the dances, the disapproving look from the Firelord, and it just left them. Alone.

It was beautiful, the electricity between them. Despite the fact he was nearly twice as old as her, with rough knuckles, graying hair, alert eyes, and the constant tugging of a frown on his lips, Azulon was much more than a simple husband-to-be. She would be able to survive when she married him, she would no longer live in an empty house filled with servants and without family. She would have someone to live for, to die for, and to hold, cherish, to tease.

"Prince Azulon?" she whispered softly, ignoring the dimming lights or the soft giggles from the group of young women not too far from her. Ilah tilted her head sideways, long, dark hair brushing into her face. Her chest was heaving with the effort of breathing, her top lip was moist from her springing to life, dancing, and being swayed into a fairytale.

"You have reached your limit." He stated, frowning at her. Passing her a cup of sake, the prince gave a soft kiss to her cheek. "But I did enjoy your dance."

The lights flickered off and even though her shoulder was pressed into his side, the young woman gave a brief smile to her lover. "Thank you." She whispered softly. "I know you dislike me dancing." She brushed her thumb over his cheek, and surprisingly, the frown disappeared.

"Perhaps, but I would prefer you to dance than sit with me." A kiss touched her ebony hair.

Ilah's red lips curved into a delightful smile, and despite the disgust written clearly on the Firelord's face, she took his hand in hers. "Next time I am going to drag you into the middle of the floor, Azulon."

Authoress note: Yes, I am here. I know I shouldn't start a new drabble and although this is my first for this series, I am so, so happy that I can write this! It's been nagging me to write for days and it stopped everything from processing in my mind so I could move onto other things! I sincerely hope you enjoy.


	2. The Child

Title: The Child

Authoress: Rickashay

Genre: Family/Tragic

Rating: K +

Time period: Canon but tweaked into AU

Word Count: 407

Warning(s): Character Death

Character(s): Ozai, Zuko, and Ursa

Note: This was written for Avatar: TLA 500 for the Prompt 17# Stir

Summary: They had tried many times for a child, all ending with a tragedy, but now one had managed to survive. Unfortunately it resorted into another tragedy.

* * *

The physician said that the birth had been difficult for both the mother and the child, what with the two month premature birth, it was expected. The child had been born turned the wrong way, and many feared for both of their lives. The sages had surrounded the room, chanting prayers and pleas to the great Agni, but in the end, a scream was replaced with a strong, hearty cry.

He could hardly believe it.

They said that he would need to wait until they made sure that both mother and child were in perfect condition, and so more hours of waiting continued. The room was still tense and puffs of smoke escaped from the corners of his mouth, but seeing the scurrying servants holding bloodied cloths and basins of water seemed to cool him off only a little, but dread soon replaced impatience.

This had been their first child to live through two hours after birth, and there had been many miscarriages. Some said it was because his wife was too young to bear children, he just thought that it was just some type of unluckiness that was thrown his way. After all...he was the _second_ born.

The door slid open, and with a large smile, the doctor made his way toward the anxious father with a white bundle in his arms.

"Congratulations, you have one healthy, strong son." The physician placed the small child in his arms, and the father marveled at how weak, fragile, and how utterly _small_ the baby seemed.

Nudging the white blanket, the father caught his first glimpse of his son. A red face, squishy looking, but undeniably _cute _rested in the crook of his arm_. _A tuft of dark hair sat atop his head, and his hand was curled into a fist. A steady breathing pattern proclaimed him to be asleep.

For the first time, Ozai felt hope stir in his chest.

Within hours, Princess Ursa was announced dead.

He named the child Zuko.

"You will one day be a great firebender, I just _know_ it." The father whispered in a dark room, overlooking the capital city from a great window. Instead of his usual red robes, he was wearing white for the death of his wife. He looked down upon the newborn baby, felt that stir of hope within his chest, for he knew that greatness dwelled within the small baby, and he smiled.

Zuko remained an only child.

A/N Just an idea that popped in my head and I couldn't resist writing it down. Hopefully you all will enjoy it and thank you so much for reading!


	3. Beautiful Destruction

Title: Beautiful Destruction  
Authoress: Rickashay  
Rating: T for obsession.  
Words: 206  
Genre: Tragedy/General/Angst  
Char/Pair: Zuko, mentions Ozai and Iroh  
Warning(s): None  
Summary: Sometimes the most beautiful things could be the most destructive.

The first time he saw fire, he thought that it was the most beautiful thing that was gifted to the Fire Nation. It coughed, sputtered, and roared with life. It shone avidly against the dull colors of their lives, nothing, _nothing_ could compare with fire. Crimsons against oranges never seemed to compete in his eyes, golden flamed, ringed with darkening reds. It was exquisite…

But sometimes, the most beautiful things could be the most destructive.

His eyes widened, and he screamed until his throat was raw and blood pooled from his lips.

There was only one thought that entered his mind…

_How could father…?_

The light of the fire could have blinded anyone, the unquenchable power that burned and ate away at the skin. Steam puffed off of his face, his body shivering and quivering with fear. The light had been so bright, but oh, so, _so_ beautiful.

Sometimes he would see the light of his sanctuary, burning away and flickering with each breath he took. He was away from the crew, away from his uncle, and he remembered that beautiful, painful light that had pronounced his banishment.

He would turn his face away, ignore the itching underneath his scar, and let the darkness consume him.

A/N Don't ask what inspired this. (Shakes head)


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